


give me the fucking fruit

by quakeriders



Series: to the stars who listen // a collection of feysand au's [5]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, F/M, Feyre and Rhysand as Persephone and Hades
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 04:05:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18130715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quakeriders/pseuds/quakeriders
Summary: "Why would the delicate bride of spring summon dear old me?"His voice is like velvet and sends a shiver down her spine. She hasn’t felt this much since coming to these lands. Or maybe ever."I want you to take me away."or: Feyre and Rhysand as Persephone and Hades





	give me the fucking fruit

_The bride of spring_ , the winds seem to whisper as Feyre walks through the bed of wildflowers.

 

Her hair is unbound, her dress light and fluttering in the warm breeze. The sun does not burn her but warms her weary bones.

 

The colours of spring are like an embrace of nature itself.

 

She bends down and plucks a budding rose from its stem. Feyre can already see the petals — the softest shade of pink — beginning to bloom.

 

A gasp. A sharp pain. She finds the tip of her finger bleeding from a thorn she hadn’t seen.

 

Her blood is too dark for this world. Dark and brilliant and alluring. It runs down to the tip of her nail and drops.

 

Feyre looks at the flowers at her feet and sees her blood staining a white rose.

 

It almost feels like a violation of these lands.

 

Of the innocence.

 

And then, darkness sweeps in. Like a mist of night and death it covers the sun and wraps around her like a cloak.

 

Feyre doesn’t scream, doesn’t stumble, doesn’t move when the man appears before her.

 

He’s the most beautiful thing she has ever laid her eyes upon. And when their gazes meet, Feyre takes one step towards him.

 

He smirks at her. "Why would the delicate bride of spring summon dear old me?"

 

His voice is like velvet and sends a shiver down her spine. She hasn’t felt this much since coming to these lands. Or maybe ever.

 

"I want you to take me away."

 

Her voice is barely a whisper. Afraid that prying eyes and ears will know of her treacherous heart and report to their master. Her would-be master.

 

His eyes are a deep shade of blue. Flecked with violet and silver and Feyre thinks that the night never looked more safe.

 

"And what will you give me in return?" He asks, sliding his hands into his pockets.

 

She doesn’t have anything to give him. Doesn’t have any possessions or talents. All she has is herself. And, _oh_ , how she wants to give herself to him.

 

"Anything." She breathes. "Everything."

 

And then he is upon her, his hand wrapping around her waist and the darkness around them sings.

 

He sweeps her into his lands and all Feyre leaves behind is that budding rose.

 

She’s never felt so light.

 

So _free_.

 

—

 

He holds the fruit out for her and smirks. "You must be hungry, darling."

 

Feyre knows that one bite is enough to bind her to him for eternity.

 

She has been warned by everyone to never accept anything that Rhysand offers her.

 

She smirks back and takes the pomegranate from him.

 

Her eyes don't leave his, while she devours it.

 

Those violet eyes spark with something like hunger as she feels the sweet nectar run from her lips and down her chin.

 

—

 

Feyre does not adjust to the darkness.

 

She becomes darkness.

 

With each passing heartbeat, she feels her bones growing stronger.

 

And when he tastes her at last, she feels complete.

**Author's Note:**

> feed my feedback hunger pls and say hi on tumblr @quakeriders


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